The River
by Noa-Pearl
Summary: But I remember us riding in my brother's car, her body tanned and wet down at the reservoir. At night on them banks I'd lie awake and pull her close just to feel each breath she'd take. Now those memories come back to haunt me... - Brock's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: Hi folks! It's been long since I've written anything for Reba, but, well, I've been reading a lot of Reba fanfiction lately and decided to give it a shot again! It's a one-shot and I'm using a Bruce Springsteen song that's called 'The River', most beautiful song in the world. If you've never heard it, I recommend you search it on YouTube, the best version is a live version that's called 'Bruce Springsteen – The River (With Intro)', something like that. Absolutely incredible. I'm drifting off haha, but the song's just amazing. Hope you like this, it's nothing too long or complicated, but I just felt like sharing. X. **

_I come from down in the valley,__  
__where mister when you're young.__  
__They bring you up to do like your daddy done.__  
__Me and Mary we met in high school,__  
__when she was just seventeen.__  
__We'd drive out of this valley down to where the fields were green._

I watched the sleeping woman on the couch, knowing she'd be pissed as hell if she would wake up and find me here, in a chair, just watching her. I just couldn't help myself though. She looked peaceful when she slept. Her worries seemed to disappear, all small lines in her face seemed to fade and everything seemed absolutely perfect. She herself was even more perfect.

It's been almost six years since our divorce and I still regret it every day. Leaving Reba wasn't about making the best decision; it was about making the right decision. At the time, leaving her seemed best. Or at least that was what I've been telling myself for the last few years. Barbra Jean was a sweetheart, she was. But she wasn't supposed to be my wife. Surprisingly, we both agreed on that these days. Which was actually the reason I'd come to Reba's house in the first place; to tell her my marriage was over.

It wouldn't get me Reba back again. I've been quite sure she's been done with me for years. But looking at her like this made all those thoughts fade. It made me think about when we met. She was seventeen, fresh out of high school. Nothing like any other girls I'd known.

_We'd go down to the river__  
__and into the river we'd dive.__  
__Oh down to the river we'd ride._

Things had been perfect from that very first meeting on. She'd yell at me for being a moron, I'd smile, and we would laugh. Things were perfect. When she got pregnant with Cheyenne, we were quite shocked. Yes, we'd been together for a while. But wasn't being in love with your very first boyfriend or girlfriend and live happily ever after something that only happened in the movies?

It scared me. It wasn't that I didn't want to be with her forever. I'd always been perfectly happy with that as a future. But it scared me. I was afraid we were too young, that things were going too fast. But her smile, her laugh, her everything would always bring me back to believing.

_Then I got Mary pregnant,__  
__and man that was all she wrote.__  
__And for my nineteenth birthday I got a union card and a wedding coat.__  
__We went down to the courthouse,__  
__and the judge put it all to rest.__  
__No wedding day smiles, no walk down the aisle,__  
__no flowers no, wedding dress._

_That night we went down to the river,__  
__and into the river we'd dive.__  
__Oh down to the river we'd ride._

She was still sleeping. Thank God for that. Her waking up would ruin every possible thing for me at this point. If she caught me, she'd be chasing me until I was back in my own condo again. Looking at her sleeping was so much more appealing. Her shirt had been creeping up during her nap, showing some gorgeous, milky, freckled skin of her belly. A belly that had been carrying three of my children.

Kyra came a couple of years after Cheyenne. We knew right after she was born she was so very different from Cheyenne. Kyra was definitely more like her mom. We'd fallen into a routine slowly. A routine that seemed to get more boring every single day. A routine that seemed to cause us to drift further and further away from each other.

When Reba was pregnant again, I thought things would get better again. And when I found out we were having a little boy, I was ecstatic. But after Jake was born, I could tell things hadn't changed for the better. I've always wondered where exactly we'd stopped communicating. When we started caring more about the plants in our front yard looking good than our marriage.

_I got a job working construction for the Johnstown Company.__  
__But lately there ain't been much work on account of the economy.__  
__Now all them things that seemed so important,__  
__well mister they vanished right into the air.__  
__Now I just act like I don't remember,__  
__Mary acts like she don't care._

Things were awful by then. Absolutely horrifying. And instead of talking to her, Barbra Jean came by. A beautiful, slightly ditsy, but sweet blonde, who was willing to give me everything I thought I was missing back at home. The affair started before I could even think about it. Barbra Jean got pregnant faster than I could've imagined too.

It was obvious Reba was tired of our fights. Tired of the tears she was letting down at moments she thought I wasn't paying attention. I wish I'd been there and wiped them all away. I hadn't. Instead, I just ran off to Barbra Jean again, deciding slowly that marrying her would be for the better. Cheyenne, Kyra and Jake weren't helped with fighting parents either.

The moment I said yes to Barbra Jean though, I regretted. Reba was still around the corner and I was surprised when I realized the two women were actually fond of each other. God, I was so proud of Reba. So proud that she tried everything to save our family, even becoming friends with the woman that was partly the cause of her family falling apart. I take all the blame though. I should've never, never ran off in the first place. Time passed, Henry was born, and for a moment, I thought everything was perfect.

That was whenever Reba was around though. I loved stealing glances at her, I still do. I loved her yelling at me for whatever I did. At least I knew I was on her mind then. She'd never left mine. When Barbra Jean and I started going to therapy for the first time, I knew our marriage was doomed. I didn't love her the way she deserved to be loved. The woman I loved, was the woman living a few houses away from me. The woman I could never forget. I've never been able to forget the way her skin felt under my hands, the way her breath made my lips tingle before she kissed them. How we'd fit perfectly fine whenever we made love.

_But I remember us riding in my brother's car,__  
__her body tanned and wet down at the reservoir.__  
__At night on them banks I'd lie awake__  
__and pull her close just to feel each breath she'd take.__  
__Now those memories come back to haunt me,__  
__they haunt me like a curse.__  
__Is a dream a lie if it don't come true,__  
__or is it something worse?_

I wanted to touch her so bad. She was so beautiful. I slowly scooted over closer to her, lightly touching her cheek, praying she wouldn't wake up. Still as silky smooth as it always was. Instinctively, I moved closer, my lips touching her forehead.

That kiss made her stir though. She stared moving as I slowly backed away, having a feeling she'd been waking up. She most definitely did open her eyes, unfortunately for me, my face was only a few inches away. I was afraid she'd be totally freaking out the moment her eyelids opened, but she didn't. She stared at me, a small smile gracing her lips as she said: "I thought I smelled your cologne," before yawning.

She was so cute. Probably to sleepy to realize I shouldn't be in here in the first place. I backed away, watching her stretch and expose even more skin as she said: "So, to what do I owe his visit?"

"I'm surprised you're not yelling."

"Too tired."

She just looked at me, her eyes resting on mine, waiting for me to speak. Her look gave me shivers though. She was incredible. I liked my lips before I said: "Yeah, I have to tell you something. Something serious."

Reba immediately got up, a worried look on her face, as I started to explain her how my second marriage had come to an end. I talked, she listened. I suppose I should've been filled with grief about another failed marriage. I wasn't. The only thing I was grieving for was the loss of the most beautiful woman on earth. A woman I'd lost as my wife years ago. A woman that was still my best friend, but I wished was so much more.

_That sends me down to the river,__  
__though I know the river is dry.__  
__That sends me down to the river tonight.__  
__Down to the river,__  
__my baby and I.__  
__oh down to the river we ride._


	2. The River, Part 2

_Note: Dear dear readers. For all of you that have been reading Summer Breeze; I love all of you and I hope I'll find inspiration soon to continue. I've been very busy lately and barely had time to write, but this came rolling out of my hands not too long ago. It's nothing special and nothing new, but I felt like sharing anyway. Hope it's still enjoyable :) ! x._

A soft summer breeze had been cooling the room a little bit when Reba had decided to make herself comfortable on the couch. It hadn't been her intention to fall asleep at all, but apparently, the last couple of weeks had been taking its toll on her.

Life hadn't at all gone the way she had planned. Reba wasn't sure why she was thinking so often about here long lost marriage these days. Perhaps because her house was getting emptier and still no man had come around to make her feel loved again. Even if a man that loved her came around, she wasn't sure if she would actually be into it.

Reba had known for years now that her one true love was the man she had lost some years ago. No matter how often she was annoyed with his stupid jokes or how often his almost orange skinned face was making fun of her, she had to admit that she had never stopped loving the man. Apparently, stop loving your soul mate wasn't as easy as he had wanted it to be.

The first few years had been quite easy; she was so busy hating him that there was no time to think about the amount of love she still kept inside of her for the man. She had never forgotten the way it felt to have his lips touch hers, how it felt when his nose was pressed against her neck before his lips touched it, or the way his hands felt on her body whenever he touched her.

She had fallen asleep at some point while thinking about her ex-husband, which had probably explained the reason her dream had mainly been existing out of Brock. Dreams felt so real sometimes. A little bit too real, if you asked her. His lips had been burning on her forehead and she had even been smelling his cologne.

* * *

Her eyes fluttered open suddenly, not really sure what had woken her up. She was surprised to find a pair of perfect blue eyes mere centimeters away. She knew who they belonged to instantly, and she was to sleepy to get upset about it. Too caught up in her dream still to even think too much about it. "I thought I smelled your cologne…" She yawned, stretching, trying to think of a reasonable excuse for Brock to be in her house. Brock backed away and she tried to sit up straight as she said: "So, to what do I owe this visit?"

"I'm surprised you're not yelling."

"Too tired." Reba knew she normally would have anyway. Her thoughts on him though were still circling in her head and she was now thinking that the vivid smell of his cologne and touch of his lips were perhaps because he had already been in the room for a while now. She didn't ask him though; she could tell by the look on his face that something serious was about to happen.

"Yeah, I have to tell you something. Something serious."

Reba sat up straight, staring at the man that was now sitting on the edge of the couch, talking about how he had decided his marriage to Barbra Jean had now officially come to an end. She was surprised that she didn't see some kind of grief on his face. He only seemed to show some sort of regret. Reba listened, nodded every once in a while, feeling sorry for Barbra Jean. She felt guilty that a part of her felt some kind of excitement. Brock was a single man again. But how excited could she even be about this? He was her ex-husband, now the ex-husband of her best friend as well.

Reba knew she and Brock were probably better off without each other. But this tiny little voice in her head told her the man was indeed her soul mate, the only man she could actually grow old with. The only man she wanted to grow old with.

_Note: That was it. Short, nothing special at all, but I hope it was good for all of you anyway. xx._


End file.
